


Brooklyn, 1999

by minnesotamemelord



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bi-Curiosity, Brooklyn, Bullying, Catholic Character, Catholic Guilt, Childhood Trauma, Coffee, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Español | Spanish, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Forgetfulness, Gay Bashing, Gay Male Character, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, M/M, Mustaches, Poor Life Choices, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Religious Guilt, Season/Series 17, Sexual Confusion, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, assholes with hearts of gold, carmen is the actual best, poorly spoken spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-06-22 09:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15578592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnesotamemelord/pseuds/minnesotamemelord
Summary: Sonny's not a bad SVU detective. However, he didn't always have the knack for it. And although he might not remember, Rafael certainly does.AU where Sonny and Barba met in 1999 during Sonny's brief stint at Brooklyn SVU.A story within a story.





	1. Way Back When

"Good luck convincing a jury to convict the bastard," Rollins said bitterly, sipping her scotch.

"Come on, Rollins, you can't have that attitude." Carisi clapped her shoulder. It was late, nearly 11, and yet nobody from the squad could persuade themselves to go home. This case in particular was hitting them all particularly hard, despite not having a personal element for any of them.

The suspect: Elijah Franklin, a 29-year-old dentist, accused of raping his secretary at an office Christmas party. However, the only evidence was her testimony, and his DNA in the bathroom where the rape supposedly occurred. However, since that was also in his office, it made sense for his DNA to be there. Barba was going to have a rough time making a case. And speak of the devil, in he walked, simultaneously throwing his jacket over the back of a bar stool and signaling for a drink.

"Damn, Barba, you look like hell," Rollins observed.

"Thank you, Rollins. I feel like hell." He swallowed half of his double scotch in one sip. "I don't suppose you found anything in the last five hours."

"Not a one, Counselor. But have you considered maybe offering a plea deal? I'm sure he'd accept maybe five years probation, and-" Carisi was interrupted by the hostile sneer on Barba's face.

"Booyah, Fordham Law. And no. He wouldn't. Trust me, I tried, but Rita Calhoun's defending him. She knows she's got a chance." He laughed bitingly. "It does remind me of the Margarita Lopez case, though." Carisi looked puzzled.

"Margarita Lopez? Who's that?" Now it was Barba's turn to look confused.

"You don't remember? Brooklyn? 1999?" Carisi shook his head and took a swig of his beer.

"I remember working in Brooklyn for about a month in 1999, but what does this have to do with that?" Barba shrugged.

"It was our first case together."

"No, our first case together was Ellie Porter. In 2014."

"Ha. Okay." Barba grinned. "Whatever you say." Rollins looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Okay, storytime, let's hear it. Brooklyn 1999." Barba leaned forward in his seat and cracked his knuckles.

"Let's set the scene. Brooklyn, July 4th, 1999. It was my fifth year in the Brooklyn ADA's office, and I was walking to a party when I almost got hit by a police car..."

 

_Brighton Beach_

_July 4th_

Rafael Barba, Brooklyn's youngest-ever ADA, missed the relative 'peace and quiet' of the city streets on any night that wasn't the 4th of July. People took Independence Day to mean that they had the independence to get blackout drunk, set off fireworks very poorly, and then disappear as soon as it came time to prosecute. It made his life harder, and that automatically knocked it off his list of favorite holidays (it was down to just New Year's and Halloween). Plus, rowdy white frat boys in American flag tank tops and flip flops? Not his first choice. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets and pushed through the throngs of people on their way to bars and beaches. He knew he'd end up prosecuting at least one in every group for assault (with fireworks), or vehicular manslaughter (DUI), or just good old-fashioned bar brawls that escalated to serious injury. It sounded cynical, but it was true.

Despite his pessimism, he was on his way to a party of his own. An old friend from law school (Harvard, as he was so proud of reminding people with the framed diploma hanging above his desk) was having a barbecue at Brighton Beach, and although at first Barba had been extremely reluctant to come, he found himself becoming more and more excited for it. Partially because his friend promised he'd invite girls, and Rafael hadn't had a date in almost three years. On the other hand, he wasn't wearing a three-piece suit, which he'd worn every single day since his first day of law school. Including weekends.

The thick curls that were usually combed so carefully back were loose and unencumbered by product. His stubble had grown out just past the point of being a shadow on his jaw. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his long-sleeve polka dot button down, paired so thoughtfully with a pair of neatly pressed khaki shorts and spotless white sneakers. Casual clothes, even dressed-up casual clothes, were unnecessary in his mind.

He remembered what his _abuelita_ had told him the day he told her he got the scholarship to Harvard. After she hugged him as tightly as he'd ever been hugged, she went into her bedroom and returned with a box. In the box was a green and gold silk tie, which he remembered well. It had been his _abuelito's_ favorite tie. She pressed it into his palm and leaned in, whispering softly.

 _"Nieto,_ this tie was your _abuelito's._ He wore it to your christening, and he thought it was only right you should receive it. He escaped _Cuba_ with this tie. _Nieto,_ people always saw him as just another spic, another ungrateful immigrant trying to take away the jobs from the real _Americanos._ " She scoffed. "But when he wore this tie, he walked a little taller. People listened to him. If you wear this tie, those _gringuitos_ won't be able to see you as some drug-dealing thug _Cubano_ from the Bronx. They'll have to see you as one of them."

Those words had stuck with him ever since. He'd never bothered to test it.

The party was already in progress when he arrived. A bonfire towered high above him, silhouetting the other partygoers in front of an orange glow. He found his friend, a man named Andrew Kelly, in front of a charcoal grill, already on what, judging by the empty bottles, looked like his third or fourth of the evening. When he saw Barba, he grinned widely, clapping a friendly hand around his shoulders. Barba could smell him. Definitely his fourth.

"Raffi! How's it been, my man?" Barba accepted the cold beer Andy offered him.

"Not bad. How's patent law treating you?"

"It pays well, _mi amigo._ How's the DA's office?"

"You know how it is. They like to stick the new guy with either the boring or the unprosecutable cases. But I'll get there."

"You know it." Andy clinked his bottle against Rafaels. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Rafael twisted the cap off and took a long sip, wandering off through the sand. He found a reasonably isolated corner, far enough away from the water that other people probably wouldn't bother him but close enough that it wasn't weird. The fireworks had already started at one of the other beaches, the loud _BOOM_ muffled by distance and the ocean waves. He leaned back, the sand cold without the sun to warm it. He bristled. Cold sand, cold beer, cold wind coming off the waves. Too cold for July, in his opinion. Damn New York weather. The _BOOMs_ from across the water, the rhythmic pounding of the waves against the sand, and the incessant chatter coming from the other side of the beach made it much too loud to hear feet shuffling through the sand until he heard her drop down next to him. "Excuse me, I'd really rather-" He started to speak, but stopped when he saw her face. She was all curves, hardly held in by a red bikini top and daisy dukes. Her raven-black curls encircled her face in a halo, and with the light of the bonfire reflecting off it, she really looked like an angel.

"You'd rather what?" She gave him a toothy grin, showing the narrow gap between her two front teeth, and stuck out one small, freckled hand. "I'm Margo." He shook it.

"Rafael."

"You didn't answer my question, Rafael."

"What?"

"You were saying something. You said, 'Excuse me, I'd really rather-' and then you stopped. You'd rather what?"

"I was going to say I'd rather be alone, but I've recently decided to retract my statement."

"Ooh, breaking out the fancy language. You tryin' to impress someone, Rafael?"

"What-? No, I'm just- It's my job. I'm a lawyer. An assistant district attorney, actually."

"Fancy language, fancy job. What else about you is fancy, Counselor?" He tried to smother a smile.

"Nothing that I know of, Margo." He sipped his beer. "What do you do?"

"I'm Andy's secretary. But I'm going back to school now. I'm gonna be a paralegal," Margo said proudly, like a child pronouncing that she was going to be a princess when she grew up.

"Good for you. And if there's ever an opening for a paralegal at the DA's office, I'll let you know." Margo giggled and stood up, brushing the sand off her legs.

"I should get back to the party. See if Andy needs anything. I'll see you around, Rafael."

"See you around, Margo." She sauntered away.

 

Barba stayed for a few hours, watching as Andy set off his own fireworks, until a thick cloud of smoke settled down on the beach. Around midnight, he rejoined the party, looking for Andy, so he could say goodbye and get home to his dog. Unfortunately, the party had essentially descended into chaos. Nobody could see anyone else through the fog. He figured he'd just send Andy a text later and thank him for the invite. As he started his walk to the subway, he heard faint sirens in the distance. He expected them to fade further and further into the distance, but they just got louder. Soon, they were accompanied by flashing lights, which were attached to nearly a half-dozen patrol cars. Rafael sped up his pace, trying to get out of the way before he was crushed into the crosswalk.

The blaring of a horn was dimmed in his ears under the sound of sirens, and the lights were a blur around him. He hardly even heard the brakes screech until the patrol car was mere inches away from him. His heart pounded and his head spun, but he shook himself out of it when the officer stepped out of the car.

"Hey, asshole! Your job is to protect and serve, not smash assistant district attorneys with your car!" He made an obscene gesture with his hand.

"Sorry, man, but we got a job to do. A woman got raped on the beach over there. Know anything about it?" The cop held up his hands defensively as he spoke.

"No, I wasn't really participating in the party. You said someone got raped?"

"Yeah. You said you're an ADA?" The cop grinned. He was young, but his face made him look even younger. "I guess we'll see a lot more of each other."

"Whatever." As the cop raced off toward the scene, Barba watched after him. His long legs bounded down the boardwalk and into the cloud of smoke. With that, he was gone.


	2. Then and Now

"Hell no. That never happened. Trust me, I'd remember." Sonny tossed back the last of his drink and chuckled.

"Trust me, it did. I'd remember that greaser haircut anywhere." Instinctively, Sonny reached up to pass his long fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, but you weren't quite so gray then. Besides, why would I make this up?" As Carisi ran his hand over his hair protectively, Rollins elbowed him in the side.

"Keep talkin', Barba. What happened next?"

"As I was saying-" Barba shot Sonny an irritated glance. "-He ran away toward the beach. I went home and I didn't hear anything until about six o'clock that morning."

 

_Apartment of ADA Rafael Barba_

_July 5th_

 

"Barba," Rafael barked into the receiver of the landline that he insisted on owning, despite the fact that his assistant for the last three years had finally talked him into buying a Nokia. He currently regretted it, though, because he had to get out of bed and walk all the way into the kitchen (directly outside of the bedroom) to answer it, and anything that required him to get out of bed before 8 was something he considered sacrilege.

"Raffi? Oh, thank God, I was sure-"

"Who is this, and why are you calling at this ungodly hour?" It was 6:15.

"It's Andy. Were you still at the party when the cops showed up last night?"

"I was just on my way out. I heard there was a rape reported?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know who?" Andy paused, and Rafael could hear the low buzz of a P.A. system in the background. He must be at the hospital, he thought.

"My secretary. Margarita."

"Margo?" Rafael's stomach dropped.

"Yeah, Margo. Did you see her last night?"

"I did, towards the beginning of the party. She seemed fine." He sat down in one of the stools at his kitchen counter. "Did she say who it was?"

"No. Anyways, I was just calling to ask if you saw anything. She said she doesn't know who did it."

"I'm so sorry, Andy. If you need anything, just let me know. And..." he paused, considering. "Give my number to Margo. Tell her the same thing."

"Will do. Thanks, Raffi."

"No problem." He set the phone down gently. More than anything, he wanted to go back to sleep, but he didn't think he could. Groaning, he pulled on the nearest clothes- a t-shirt and jeans. Clothes he swore he'd only wear in the event that all of his suits were stolen, or, he supposed, if he had to leave his apartment- God forbid- _before 7 o'clock._

"Just catapult me into the sun now, why don't you?" He asked to no one in particular. For a brief moment, he considered downing a handful of NyQuil in an attempt to regain the 4 hours of sleep he'd lost. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough to act on his sleep-deprivation-induced suicidal thoughts, so he opted for copious amounts of caffeine. The best coffee cart in the world (at least according to the homeless cat lady that slept outside of his building) was less than a block away, so he decided to take a walk.

In a leather jacket, tight-fitting white t-shirt, straight-legged medium wash jeans, and black desert boots, Rafael could have passed for a character from The Outsiders- his favorite book as a kid. He ordered his usual, a vanilla latte with two extra shots of vanilla and a packet of sugar (and yet he continued to deny that he had a sweet tooth), and sat down on a bench at the park across the street. If he couldn't sleep, he'd people-watch with the other people, the insomniacs and the night shift workers and the- he nearly gagged- morning people. One such person was all three of those, in fact. He nearly gave Barba a heart attack.

"Oh, hey!" Rafael jumped. "Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. But you are the guy I almost hit with my car yesterday?" His face blocked the sun, and Barba squinted as his eyes adjusted. Sure enough, it was the baby-faced, beanpole of a cop that had nearly run him over in a squad car.

"Yep." Barba sipped his coffee, praying to be left alone. No such thing was going to happen, though.

"Sorry about that, man. It's just that with all the lights, and the smoke, and it's only my first week here, and-"

"No offense, but I don't really care. I'm fine, and I'd just like to drink my coffee." He looked at the cop pointedly.

"Oh, right. My bad." He started to walk away, then turned around to call out over his shoulder. "See you around, Counselor!" Barba nodded in response.

 

He finished his coffee and dragged himself back to his apartment around 7 and got dressed, exchanging his jeans and t-shirt for his much-preferred checkered gray suit. All of his previous girlfriends had said his suspenders and pocket squares made him look like a grandpa, but he thought they looked exceptionally put-together, which was helpful for someone that opposing counsel usually expected to look young and naïve. He stopped for another coffee on his way to work, finishing it several blocks in advance, but Carmen, his assistant, had another one waiting for him.

"Carmen, I don't know what I did to deserve you, but it wasn't enough." Carmen said nothing, just winked and handed him a stack of files. Arms full, he kicked open the door to his office (small, windowless, and sparsely furnished). It wasn't 10 seconds before his boss, District Attorney Luke Bauer poked his head through the door. Bauer was in his mid-fifties or early sixties, severe in both looks and demeanor, but he had a soft spot for Barba. He thought that too many of the people in his office hadn't worked as hard as they should have, that they got these jobs and went to great colleges because their parents could donate millions for a new library and put in a good word with the former DA. Not Barba. Barba had busted his ass to get to where he was, and that gained him a great deal of respect with Bauer. The other ADAs hated him for it, thought that respect equaled favoritism. Ironic.

"Mr. Barba, could you join me in my office for a moment? It won't take long." His stomach twisted. "Don't worry, nothing's wrong."

Nobody ever says "Nothing's wrong" when everything's okay.

He followed Bauer out and through the empty lounge. Everyone else was either in court or in their office. Everyone else had a case. When they were inside, Bauer shut the door behind them and gestured for Barba to sit.

"If I may, Mr. Bauer, is there a problem?" His fingers tapped against his knee.

"What? Oh, no. I just wanted to tell you, I'm transferring you. To the Sex Crimes Bureau."

"Have I done something wrong? I thought that Hate Crimes was-"

"No, nothing like that. Your work in Hate Crimes has been excellent, but we just lost one of our Sex Crimes ADAs to the Bronx. I recommended you. Congratulations, Mr. Barba. You'll be working with Brooklyn Special Victims Unit on a new case. Perhaps you saw something this morning. A woman was raped at a party at Brighton Beach. I've already alerted them you'll be coming later today to get up to date." Bauer stood and offered Barba a hand.

"Nice work, Mr. Barba. You'll do great things."

"Thank you, sir. I'll try my best." As Barba shook hands with Bauer eagerly, his mind raced. Not only was he probably going to have to testify in Margo's case, he'd also be prosecuting it when they found a suspect. Was that legal? Probably. Ethical? Who knows.

Brooklyn's 88th precinct had descended into Black Friday-meets-Disneyland-meets-Times-Square-On-New-Years-Eve hellish chaos when Barba arrived. Detectives were crammed into the bullpen with no indication as to who was Vice and who was Homicide and who was SVU. He could do nothing but stare, frozen. That is, until he was discovered by the one person he least expected and/or wanted to be discovered by.

"Counselor! I didn't expect to see you again this morning. You're not following me, are you?" Joked the young detective, a wide, toothy grin plastered on his face.

"No, I'm looking for SVU."

"SVU, huh? Come on, that's a whole different place." Without saying anything, the cop slid his hand into Barba's and tugged, pulling him through the crowd with grace and ease. They danced between fat traffic cops and school resource officers until they reached a wide set of green double doors. Inside, there was a smaller, but quieter space. Only about fifteen people, sitting at desks, chatting with hushed voices. Without letting go of his hand, the cop led Barba towards the back of the room and knocked on a frosted glass door. A plaque next to the door was smudged and tarnished, like it had been there for a long time. It read:

CAPT. GIA WILSON

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

The cop rapped twice on the wooden frame of the door. A muffled answer came through, and he pushed it open. A woman sat behind the broad wooden desk. She stood with a broad smile and walked around to shake Barba's hand.

"You must be the ADA Luke Bauer sent. I see you've already met Detective Carisi." Her eyes flicked down to their hands, still clasped together. They hastily let go, busying their own hands.

"Just now. Nice to meet you, Detective."

"Call me Sonny. Everyone does." Sonny. It made sense, considering his sunny demeanor.

"Captain Gia Wilson, at your service."

"ADA Rafael Barba. I'm here to get up to date on the Margo Lopez case." The captain nodded. "Come with me, Counselor. Carisi, go find Sanders." Sonny departed with a grin, and Rafael followed Wilson out of her office. She led him to a large rolling bulletin board. It was nearly empty, but for a photo of Margo, badly beaten and bruised, and a few blurry pictures of the party.

"This is it? You haven't found anything else?"

"I don't know what you expected, Mr. Barba. We just got the case this morning. And the DNA from the rape kit hasn't come back yet. We'll let you know when we find something."

"Please do." At that moment, Sonny reappeared, accompanied by a pudgy, but friendly-looking man who looked about Rafael's age, maybe a year or two older.

"Mr. Barba, please meet Sergeant Wendell Sanders." Sanders nodded respectfully and shook Barba's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sergeant. I should get going, but it was good to meet you all. Officially." He gave Carisi a pointed glance. "Call my office if you find anything." He pressed a business card into Carisi's palm.

"Hold on, I'll show you the other exit. So you don't have to endure that horde out there." Barba was deeply confused by this detective, whose calculator watch looked like it belonged to a ten year old and who spoke exactly like that one gangster in those old seventies mob movies, who shot people and then said some quippy one-liner and probably had a girlfriend with massive hoop earrings and a chewing gum addiction. He never seemed to stop fidgeting, always bouncing his leg or running his long, spindly fingers through his hair or tapping his fingers on the edge of whichever desk he had his thin behind perched on. And even so, he followed out another set of green doors and down a maintenance hallway. Carisi had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the thick copper pipes running along the ceiling.

"Is it always like this?" Barba asked, trying to avoid the awkwardness that hung over them.

"I wouldn't know. I've only been here for a week. But from what I've heard, probably. There's a lot goin' on in Brooklyn pretty much all the time."

"Trust me, I know. I've been here for almost six years. And yet," he muttered under his breath, "I'm still 'the new guy.'"

"Yeah, bein' the new guy is rough. I've been in three different boroughs in the last six months."

"Six months? What kind of-"

"I didn't get fired. I was a patrol cop for two years in Staten Island. I kept asking to be transferred to Vice, or Homicide, but the only opening was in SVU, so I took it. I was there for two months before the budget got slashed to bits. I was lucky. I managed to get in here. Most of the other new hires are working as mall cops or private security." He shrugged. "It's nice here, I guess. At least I get to work with cooler lawyers." Barba cocked an eyebrow.

"Does that mean me?"

"No, it means my estate planner." Sonny rolled his eyes. "Yes, you."

"I'm sorry, what about me seems cool to you? Is it that I already dress like I'm seventy? Because I get how that seems very-"

"Do you ever stop?"

"Stop what?" Carisi laughed at the innocent expression on Barba's face.

"Hilarious. See you around, Counselor." His Staten Island accent made it sound like "Counselah".

"I'll see you around, Detective." Carisi pushed open the door and Barba blinked rapidly as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, the light blinding him. He looked back just in time to see the door swing shut, catching a flash of gold from the shield clipped to his hip and silver from something on his left hand. Maybe a ring? Before he could get a better look, the door slammed shut with a jarring _BANG._

 

_Brooklyn District Attorney's Office_

_July 6th_

 

 _"Mamí,_  I- yes, I'm coming to dinner on Sunday. Of course. Uh-huh. There's nobody else I'd rather be with,  _Mamí._ Yes, say hi to  _abuelita_ for me. Love you too." With an exasperated sigh, Rafael set the phone in the cradle, only to have it almost immediately start ringing again. He picked it up on the second ring.

"Barba," he answered, making a mental note to remember when Carmen takes her lunch break.

"Counselor. We've got something on the Margo Lopez case. We'd like it if you would come down to the station and have a look." Without even having to say anything, it was immediately obvious who had called.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Carisi. If you don't mind, what did you get?"

"A suspect."

"Who?"

"Andy Kelly. He's a patent lawyer. Margo's his-"

"His secretary."

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" Barba sighed and bit his lip, silently kicking himself.

"Andy and I went to law school together. I was at that party. I talked to Margo." There was a pause.

"You what?! Barba, that would have made you a suspect if we hadn't just gotten the rape kit back! Why didn't you say anything?"

"For this exact reason. But you got the rape kit back, and that proves it wasn't me, so-"

"So you're not a suspect anymore, but don't you have to recuse yourself now?"

"Not technically, no. I just have to have someone act as my co-counsel in the event that I get called to testify."

"God, Barba, this was really-"

"Save it. I'll be there in ten." With that, he hung up and grabbed his briefcase. "I'll be back in a few hours," he told Carmen, who was on her way in from her lunch break. She nodded and handed him an iced coffee. "You're a goddamn lifesaver."

 

The coffee was gone by the time Barba reached the precinct, coming back in through the maintenance doors. SVU was slightly busier than it had been yesterday, but was still much, **much** calmer than the bullpen. He joined the squad in the narrow room between the two interrogation rooms and watched through one-way glass with Captain Wilson as Carisi and Sanders leaned over the table, speaking indistinctly. He reached forwards and flipped the switch to allow audio to come in. He heard Andy's voice first, as cool and relaxed as ever.

"Look, I'm not married. Neither is Margo. We got a little drunk, had a little fun, but I didn't _rape_ her."

"Really? Then how come she's got a broken nose and she's all bruised up?"

"I don't know, man, all I know is that she was fine, and then a couple hours later, she woke up all beaten up and called the cops."

"Sure." Carisi glanced up at the mirror, like he knew Barba had come in. "We'll be back." He took three long steps to get to the door and pushed it open. "Thanks for comin' in, Counselor." His tone was cold and biting. Wilson looked back and forth between them, but said nothing. Carisi looked at Barba pointedly.

"Hey, Cap, I think Barba might have something to add." Barba stiffened.

"Thank you, Detective." He spit out each syllable. "Captain Wilson, I was at the Brighton Beach party. I talked to Margo Lopez there. I went to law school with Andy. However, I did not become the youngest ADA in New York's history by letting my personal relationships in the way of a case. I'm not going to recuse myself, and in the event that I am called to testify, I have arranged for co-counsel. I apologize for not saying something earlier, but I am in no danger of becoming a suspect anymore, so it does not matter." His heart sped as he searched Wilson's eyes for a response. At last, she spoke.

"Okay, Mr. Barba. I'll take you at your word. But keep in mind, if you lie to me again, I'll make sure your sorry ass gets transferred to Elder Abuse faster than you can say "youngest ADA in New York City," which I believe you can say very quickly."

"Thank you, Captain." Barba and Wilson shook hands, much to Carisi's annoyance, which he made clear.

"Captain, he lied! He should have been a suspect!"

"Carisi, I've made my decision. I'm going to take Mr. Barba in and question him right now. If you have a problem with that, take it up with- actually, don't. Just shut up." Carisi opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he kept quiet. The captain led Rafael into the opposite interrogation room. They sat down across the table from one another, and Wilson pulled out a pad and pen.

"So, Counselor, you were at the party? Do you know what time it was when you left?"

"It was right as the cops started arriving. Probably around midnight or so."

"And you talked to Ms. Lopez? When was the last time you saw her?"

"We only talked for about five minutes right when I got there, about eight."

"And you also talked to Mr. Kelly?"

"Yes, just before I talked to Margo. We also only chatted for around five minutes."

"And did you talk to anyone else?"

"No. I just sat on the beach and watched the fireworks. Ask anyone."

"Did Margo or Andy say anything to you later that night or the following morning?"

"Andy called to say that Margo had been the one to report the rape. He was-" Rafael almost choked as he realized. "He was at the hospital. With her. I just- I don't understand how Andy could have done this. He was always a flirt, but he- uh, he- he always showed a preference for, you know...men."

"So he's gay?"

"Bi."

"So it's entirely possible that he'd rape a woman."

"God, I guess."

"Alright, thank you, Counselor. We'll let you know if we need anything else. In the meantime..." She nodded backwards toward the mirror that Carisi was almost definitely watching through. He understood and nodded, pushing back into the middle room. Sure enough, Carisi was standing in front of the window facing the captain, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey, Carisi." Barba gestured for Sonny to follow. They left the room and made their way back into the maintenance hallway. Sonny leaned against the wall, arms folded.

"Well?"

"Look, Carisi, I'm sorry. I should have said something. I just don't know why you're so upset by this."

"I don't like it when people lie to me! It makes it that much harder to do my job, and this job is already hard enough. I don't need people I-" He breathed deeply and composed himself. "I don't need people to make my life harder."

"Right." Rafael caught a glimpse of something more in Carisi's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. "Let me buy you a drink. Make it up to you." The offer was impulsive, and he regretted it almost as soon as the words left his mouth, but it was too late.

"Fine. I know a place. I'll text you the address." As Carisi turned to walk away, Barba followed.

"Let's go get our guy."

Andy was still in the interrogation room, this time with Wilson and Sanders leaning over him. They caught the last snippet of conversation.

"...fine, is that what you want me to say? That I raped Margo? Trust me, she wanted it."

"Did she?"

"I had to, uh, convince her a little bit, but she definitely wasn't sayin' no, y'know?"

"By 'convince her', do you mean beat the living hell out of her?"

"I'm saying that when I was done with her, she wasn't going to be able to say no." Wilson grinned and stood.

"Okay, thanks, Andy. And one other thing- you're under arrest for the rape of Margarita Lopez. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be-"

"Call Rafael Barba, he'll be my attorney! We're friends from law school, he-"

"No, he won't. He can't. He'll be the ADA prosecuting your case." For emphasis, she leaned over, using one hand to cuff Andy and the other to pull open the door. Barba walked in, holding his head high despite the nervous pounding in his chest.

"Raffi, come on, you can't be serious. _Mi amigo,_ we go way back, you know you can't-"

"I can, actually, and I will. You raped your own secretary. God, Andy." Rafael shook his head. "How could you do this?"

"Bitch had the nerve to sleep with me one night, then say it was 'unprofessional' the next." Barba chuckled and turned around, took two steps towards the exit, and then whipped around, his open hand creating a loud _SNAP_ as it met Andy's already red cheeks. Andy recoiled, the force of the slap much more than he anticipated. When he recovered from the initial shock, he started screaming, pulling at his cuffs, spit flying from his mouth.

"I'm gonna sue your ass into the ground! That's assault! Assault!" He lunged for Barba, who dodged. Carisi stepped into the room and slid in front of Barba, holding his arms out to shield him. Generally, Barba didn't like to feel smothered, but now? Right now, he certainly didn't mind.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, Andy," he called over Carisi's shoulder, "but you brought this on yourself. And it's my job to make sure you never do it again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm thinking about writing another Barisi fic taking place after the s17 finale where Barba's still getting death threats and it gets violent, but I'm not sure what the premise for their relationship should be. It can either be:
> 
> 1\. A sequel to In A Flash where they're still together and it's got lots of domestic fluff and also jealousy and angst
> 
> 2\. A sequel to In A Flash where they're broken up and it's got a lot of jealousy and angst
> 
> 3\. A free-standing fic where they aren't together and it has a lot of jealousy and angst
> 
> COMMENT YOUR OPINIONS BELOW THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!


	3. Oh, What A Night

"Okay, I vaguely remember that happening, but I honestly don't remember you being there." Sonny shrugged and ordered another beer.

"First of all, I'll take one of those, too, and second of all, I definitely was there. Do you really not remember the drink we had?"

"No, why?"

"How do you think I found this bar?" Rafael gestured around Forlini's. "So, later that night..."

 

_Forlini's Restaurant_

_93 Baxter Street_

_July 6th_

"What're you drinking?" Carisi asked, tossing his coat into a booth across from the bar.

”Is the whiskey here any good?” Carisi shrugged.

”It’s cheap, but decent enough.”

”Then I’ll have that.” Carisi held up two fingers, and slid one glass across the table to Barba.

”Cheers.” He clinked their glasses together, and Barba took a hesitant sip. It wasn’t bad, but it subscribed to the idea that you get what you pay for.

"So, how'd it happen that you end up the youngest ADA in New York's history?"

"I don't know, I guess I just...I wanted it. I didn't date, I didn't drink, I didn't do any stupid stuff all the way through high school and college. Harvard was a big fan of the bisexual Latino applicant, not to mention my academic standing, so they gave me a scholarship. Not a free ride, mind you, but enough that my mother and _abuelita_ and I could make the rest without student loans. And then the DA's office, they took me on as an intern first. Then, an ADA in Hate Crimes retired, and they figured, 'Who knows better about hate crimes than Rafael?' So they offered me the job, and I got transferred to Sex Crimes earlier yesterday. That's how that happens."

"So this is literally your first special vic case?"

"Yep. Although, I did work on a couple twofers. Hate crime-sex crime hybrids."

"Huh." Carisi sipped his beer, a shocked look on his face. "You know, you're not what I expected. I mean, when I hear 'district attorney', I think balding, middle-aged divorcé, not, you know..." he gestured up and down. "You."

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for that. And for agreeing to have a drink with me."

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have been so pissed."

"No, no, it's on me. I should have come clean at the beginning. I guess I just...didn't want to be a suspect. God, that sounds stupid now that I say it out loud."

"Actually, it's understandable. Especially considering how hard you worked to get where you are. I just don't like bein' lied to."

"Also understandable. Does this mean we're good?" Carisi considered for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah. We're good." He took another swig of his beer and picked up Rafael's empty glass. "I'll get you another round."

"I thought I was supposed to be buying you a drink."

"Eh. I figure you'll be buyin' me a lot of drinks when I help you take the bastard down."

"Maybe so, Detective," Rafael said with a grin.

"Wait just a hot second. I'll be right back." Carisi slid out of the booth, then returned with a full glass. "I do have something to confess, though, Counselor."

"What's that? Not that you're a rapist, I hope. That would be a very tough case for me to prosecute."

"Hilarious, but no. I actually...I ran a background check on you. You were arrested when you were fourteen. I couldn't see what it was for, though. The charge was expunged for your record. What was it?" Rafael swallowed his initial shock and chuckled.

"Walking while Cuban. I was walking home outside a bodega with a couple of friends. The cops just came out of nowhere. They cuffed all three of us and took us back to the precinct, just because we kind of matched the description of some gang members who were dealing cocaine. They caught the guys later that day. They were in their twenties, huge and tattooed. I was a short, chubby fourteen year old trying to look like I was in West Side Story. That's when I decided I wanted to go to law school."

"...damn."

"It really didn't help that I cussed out the cops who arrested me."

"No, it wouldn't. So that's what made you want to go to law school?"

"You seem to be very interested in my law career, Detective."

"I always wanted to go to law school, but I never had the money."

"That's unfortunate, but there's still time. You'd make a great lawyer someday."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

They finished off their drinks with some more chatter, and then Rafael stood up to leave.

"Hey, wait! Before you go, they do trivia here on Sunday nights. I get the feeling you've won every game of Trivial Pursuit you've ever played."

"You'd be right, but I can't. Sorry."

"Aw, come on. Why not?"

"It's, ah...It's my birthday. Actually. Thirty."

"Wow. That's a big one."

"Yeah. I'm having dinner with my family. Sorry."

"Well, if you can't come, at least have one more drink with me." Carisi batted his lashes comically. "Just one." Rafael groaned and sat back down.

"Fine. Better make it a club soda." When Carisi came back, Rafael grinned easily, loosening his tie with one hand. "I got a quick question for you. Your ring. What is it?" Carisi wiggled his fingers, the ring obscured by the light reflecting off it.

"St. Michael. The patron saint of police officers. My confirmation saint. My father gave the ring to me the day I graduated the police academy. He said St. Michael would always watch over me, make sure I never got hurt on the job."

"So you're not married?"

"I'm twenty-three, barely out of the academy. I still work nights and weekends. No, I'm not married."

"Hm." Rafael took a long gulp of his club soda. "By the way, I never did thank you."

"What for?"

"Earlier today, when we were in the room with Andy, you stepped out in front of me. He would have tried to kill me if you hadn't stepped in. Thanks."

"I just did my job. There's nothing to thank me for." Rafael finished off his club soda and stood up.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Carisi. Have a nice night." With that, he left.

 

"Hold up," Rollins said, pushing back from the bar. "I gotta pee. But when I get back, I wanna hear the rest of this." She hopped off her stool and disappeared into the back hallway. As soon as she was out earshot, Carisi turned to Barba.

"You left something out." Barba grinned innocently.

"Really? I thought you didn't remember anything?"

"I don't, really, but I know that wasn't the last thing we talked about that night. I'm one hundred percent sure."

"You really want to hear this?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Because it changes everything. Absolutely everything."

"Why are you acting so weird? Just tell me."

"Fine, but just remember that I left it out because I didn't want Rollins to hear. And I won't tell her if you don't want me to."

"God, what the hell happened? I didn't kill someone, did I?"

"No, you didn't kill someone. Just...this is going to be rough."

 

"There's nothing to thank me for." Rafael laughed.

"Well, that's not true. You're a good person, Carisi."

"And you can tell that after meeting me twice?"

"Three times. And yes."

"I could say the same to you, then." Rafael held up his glass.

"To being good people. At least from our own perspectives."

"To being good people." Carisi clinked his bottle against Rafael's glass. When he put it back down, he noticed Rafael staring at him thoughtfully, his dark green eyes filled with something. Longing, maybe. Hunger. He barely had time to register movement before Rafael's lips were on his. Rafael could taste the mediocre beer on Carisi's lips, the barest traces of coffee and vanilla. Or maybe that was just him. For just a moment, he felt Carisi lean into him, felt his long, skinny fingers run through Rafael's hair, until he suddenly stiffened and pulled back. He didn't meet Rafael's eyes as he gathered his things.

"I, uh, I'm not gay. I'm not sure why you thought I was, but I'm very much not gay."

"Right. I'm sorry, I just...sorry." Carisi nodded.

"Yeah. Bye."

"Bye." Carisi slipped out the front door, leaving Rafael to finish his club soda alone, in a red vinyl booth, abandoned with his own thoughts and his own, he suspected, wrongdoings.


	4. To The Old And To The New

Carisi stared at Rafael, his baby blue eyes wide with shock.

"That- I never- That never-"

"I have an impeccable memory, Carisi. That's why I'm such a good prosecutor." Rafael offered a small smile. "Hey, you asked."

"Not funny."

"Yeah. I know." Before either of them could say another word, Rollins emerged from the restroom.

"Alright, Barba, so you left the bar. What comes next?" Rafael reluctantly broke eye contact with Carisi and stared down into his glass.

"Well, Carisi took the next two days off, to go visit family in Maine. The Friday he came back, I indicted and arraigned Andy."

 

_Office of ADA Rafael Barba_

_1 Hogan Place_

_July 10th_

"Jesus, Barba, you look like hell."

"Thanks, Mr. Bauer," Barba said with a scowl as he reached for the iced coffee in Carmen's outstretched hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?" Bauer followed him into his office.

"You indicted Andrew Kelly yesterday."

"Yes, and?"

"And I just got word you'll be called in to testify against him. Are you okay with that?"

"I was expecting it. What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm assigning you some co-counsel. Another new hire in the sex crimes bureau. I believe you've met Rita Calhoun?" An easy grin spread across Rafael's face as he saw the woman standing in his office. 

"Rafael!" Rita wrapped her surprisingly strong arms around him.

"Nice to see you again, Rita." Rafael turned to Bauer. "Rita was a third year at Harvard my first year. I didn't know you were still in New York!"

"I wasn't. I went back to Boston for a couple of years there, but then I got offered a job here, and who am I to say no to Luke Bauer?" Rafael chuckled and patted her shoulder.

"Well, you must let me buy you a drink."

"Please do. I suspect we have quite a bit to catch up on." Her suggestive expression puzzled Rafael, but it was gone without another thought.

"I'll leave you to it," Bauer said and left without another word.

"So, Andy Kelly? You two were quite the pair back in school." Rita wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis.

"Grow up, Rita. It was never like that. 'Sides, he was with what's-his-face for most of that year. Victor? Eric?"

"Okay, first of all, it was Steve, and secondly, Victor and Eric are, like, the two most different names possible."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"But seriously, I couldn't believe it. His own secretary. I talked to her at the party. She's a sweet kid. Going to school to become a paralegal."

"Hm."

"I recognize that 'hm.' What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it sounds like you have a crush on this girl."

"I do not have a crush on _her,"_ Rafael spluttered.

"Aha! So you do have a crush on someone!"

"That- I- That's ridiculous! I do not have a crush on anyone, because I'm not in fifth grade, Rita."

"Semantics. Call it what you want, you've got love on the brain." She tapped the side of his temple.

"Jesus, you're incorrigible. Look, if it suits you, let's save this conversation for drinks, shall we?"

"Fine, but don't think I'll forget. I want the deets. All of them."

"Cut it out. I need you to take a crack at Andy and his lawyer. He refused to take the plea I offered him, but maybe he'll listen to you. He idolized you."

"Maybe. I'll check it out." As Rita turned to leave, she put a comforting hand on Rafael's shoulder. "It really is nice to see you, Rafael. Even under the circumstances."

 

 

"You know what?" Rollins asked, muffled through a yawn. "It's gettin' late. I'm headed home. I do wanna hear the rest of this tomorrow, though, Barba." She grinned sleepily. "Man, that is just so absolutely wild," She said to nobody in particular and left. Rafael and Sonny said nothing, just stared straight ahead.

"Should I keep going?" Rafael finally asked.

"Why not? Nothing like remembering things that subvert your entire perception of yourself, right?"

 

_Forlini's Restaurant_

_93 Baxter Street_

_July 10th  
_

Rafael found Rita sitting alone in a corner booth at the bar he'd been abandoned at the previous night. Well, maybe not abandoned. More like...fled from. That was it. Carisi had fled like a bat out of hell. Fortunately, Rita wasn't about to desert him. In fact, she seemed rather eager to see him.

"Rita." He greeted her with a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. She slid a glass of scotch across the table. "So? How'd it go with Andy?"

"He wouldn't take a single deal I offered him. We're going to trial, Raffi. Sorry."

"You tried your best."

"You're damn right I did. But hey, let's not talk about work. I want to hear all about your mystery crush."

"I'm not talking about it if you keep talking about it like we're in the sixth grade and talking about who we're asking to the Spring Fling dance."

"Fine, fine. I want to hear all about the mystery person that you have feelings for."

"What do you want to know?"

"Really, Rafael? I want to know everything. Who is this person?"

"I'm not going to name names, but it's a guy."

"And?"

"And...I don't know. I thought we might have a little bit of a thing. We met about a week ago, and it was...friendly. At first. And then it started to turn into quote, unquote 'flirty banter'. At least, that's what I thought. But last night, I- uh...I kissed him. It was stupid of me. I hadn't even bothered to ask if he was...you know."

"Watch out, Rafael, you're starting to sound like a heterosexual."

"Hah. Anyway, he seemed like he was into it, for a hot second. And then he wasn't. He just backed off. All he could say was, 'I'm not gay.'"

"Uh-huh. So, you really did a number on Detective Carisi, didn't you?"

"What? I didn't ever tell you his name."

"Aha! My suspicions have been confirmed."

"Wait, wait, wait. You can't say anything. Please. If he knows I said anything-"

"Calm yourself. I might be straight as an arrow, but I'm not stupid. My lips are sealed."

"Thanks. How'd you figure it out, anyway?"

"I went over to the precinct after I saw Andy, just to introduce myself. When I mentioned you, he froze up. Said he had a suspect to check on. His captain seemed real confused too."

"I'm not sure what to do about it, Rita. I think I screwed up any chance at even a friendly professional partnership, much less a romantic one." Rita considered thoughtfully for a minute, then downed the last of her drink in two gulps.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure what I'm talking about, but if you want my two cents? Give him space. He'll either talk to you or he won't. Trying to convince him to talk to you won't make anything any better." She stood up and put on her jacket. "I ought to get home. I hope it all works out for you, Rafa. Give me a call if you need anything." Rafael nodded.

"I will. Thanks for the drink, Rita. I'm gonna head out with you. I need to pick up a couple of things at the office." He finished off his own drink and followed her out the door.

_Office of ADA Rafael Barba_

_1 Hogan Place_

_July 10th_

Nobody was sitting in the bullpen at the DA's office, but the desk light on Carmen's desk was still on, which meant she hadn't gone home yet. Rafael silently reminded himself to give her the world's biggest bonus for Christmas. And maybe Halloween, too. He opened the door to his office and began shuffling files and folders into his briefcase when he noticed a small white box on one of his bookshelves, right beside the decanter of whiskey that had been a housewarming gift from Luke Bauer when he moved into his apartment. There was a tiny paper label on the top that read _'La Dolce Vita'_ and had a thin red ribbon wrapped around it. Puzzled, Rafael stuck his head out the door, just to make sure whoever left it wasn't still in the office. Nothing. he untied the ribbon and flipped off the cardboard lid. A cupcake sat inside, a simple, white frosted one. There was no decoration, save for one unlit candle. Rafael jumped to the easiest conclusion and called Rita.

"Rafael?" She sounded tired.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah, you're good. What's up?"

"I got your cupcake."

"You...what?"

"The cupcake you left in my office?"

"I didn't."

"...oh."

"Raf, you okay?"

"Yeah. fine. Sorry. Night."

"Night." He stepped out into the bullpen again, and thankfully, Carmen had returned.

"Hey, boss." She caught sight of the box in his hand. "Oh! I meant to text you. One of those SVU detectives stopped by earlier and left that."

"Did they leave a name?"

"No, but he was young, tall. Kinda hot, I have to say."

"Thanks, Carmen. You can go home, you know."

"I will. When you do." Rafael shook his head and grinned.

"I don't deserve you, Carmen."

"I know," Carmen replied with a grin as she sipped from the coffee mug in her hand. Rafael returned to his office and pulled the cupcake out of the box. A slip of paper that had been tucked under it fluttered down and onto the floor. He picked it up and read the neatly scrawled handwriting. All it said was:

_Happy birthday._

_-S.C._

He folded it carefully in half and slid it into his pocket. He unwrapped the cupcake and took a small bite. The chocolate, which was still warm, somehow, crumbled to bits in his mouth. He'd never cared much for chocolate, but here it was. His new favorite.


	5. Forget What's On Your Mind

"So..." One word seemed to be all Carisi could manage.

"So."

"So you found the cupcake I left in your office. What next?"

"Are you sure? I don't have to finish, you-"

"Shut up, Barba. We've gotten this far. I need to know."

"...fine."

 

_Saint Raphael Catholic Church_

_5 Fairway Ave_

_Sunday, July 11_

The church was quintessentially Catholic, all vaulted ceilings and enormous arching stained glass windows. Row after row of gleaming walnut pews stretched as far as Rafael could see, up to a low altar, where every available surface appeared to be gilded in gold. Mass had been over for nearly an hour, so it was almost completely empty. Rafael's footsteps echoed as his perfectly polished brogues paced down the empty aisle. There were only two people other than him that he could see. An old woman lit a candle in one corner, her head ducked before a painting of the Virgin Mary. The other was the one he was looking for. Multicolored sunlight filtered in and refracted across sharp, angular features. A wooden rosary was wound between white-knuckled fingers. Lips moved noiselessly, praying to some unseen God. Rafael said nothing, just sat down in the pew behind him and glanced around nervously. He hadn't been to church in years, not counting Christmas Eve midnight mass with his mom and _abuelita._ It wasn't just feeling out of place, it wasn't a sense of alienation, but more an unfortunate familiarity. Like running into somebody you had once been friends with, but had a nasty falling out.

It had been the first place he had ever been told it was wrong to like boys.

It was also where he kissed his first boyfriend.

It had been the thing his father used against him at the first opportunity.

It had been the place his mother had used as a refuge.

 

Finally, he leaned forward, his hands folded neatly, his eyes staring straight ahead.

"We should talk." Carisi's head bobbed slightly.

"Sure. Just...not here." His eyes drifted to the crucifix hanging above the altar. "Not here." Rafael stood, and as he turned to leave, his hand jolted out, almost involuntarily. It came to rest on Carisi's shoulder. Rafael could see him tense up under the touch. Dejectedly, he pulled his hand away and walked back down the aisle. He paused to look behind him, just once. Carisi was still leaned forwards, his hands folded tightly together, his head bowed towards the altar. The light streaming through the stained glass surrounded him in a mulitcolored haze. Almost like a halo.

Outside, Rafael sat on a concrete bench under a red buckeye tree in a hidden corner of the church garden. Before long, he heard footsteps on the stone path. A pair of polished black loafers appeared in front of him, stacked under a pair of long charcoal slacks. Above that, a glimmer of silver. His ring. And then his face, solemn and quiet. He sat down next to Rafael and stared up at the tree hanging over them.

"How'd you know I'd be here?" He asked softly and sat beside Rafael.

"Captain Wilson said you weren't coming in today. She also said she had seen you at mass here before. So, given the...circumstances, I took a shot in the dark."

"Decent aim."

"Thank you." Carisi rolled the ring on his finger under his thumb.

"I'm guessing you're not here to discuss Andy Kelly." Rafael sighed.

"No. I'm not. I got your cupcake. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I took a guess with the chocolate."

"It was good, but surprising. I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"It was on impulse. Really, it was..."

"It was what?"

"An apology. For the other night."

"An apology? Why would you need to apologize to me? It was my fault, I-I assumed, and I shouldn't have, and-"

"No. It wasn't your fault. I just..." One of Carisi's legs bounced up and down. "It wasn't the fact that you, y'know...kissed me, that freaked me out. It was that I had wanted to do just the same thing that whole night." Rafael's eyes flicked up to meet Sonny's. Their usual icy blue had turned warm and glossy, and the long dark lashes that framed them fluttered open and shut once before one trembling hand drifted hesitantly up to rest on the lapel of Rafael's jacket.

"Wait, wait. Are you...are you sure?" Carisi chuckled.

"Not even a little." His fingers gripped the navy fabric and tugged hard. When their faces met, their noses smashed together, hands going to faces, backs, hair, knees bumping gently. Sonny pulled back, chest heaving with laughter.

"God, this is ridiculous! I can't-" He was interrupted as Rafael pulled him back down, running his fingers through Rafael's thick black curls. This time, Rafael pulled away first.

"Um, what does this- what does this mean? If you're not-"

"I don't know. All I know is, I liked kissing you the first time, and I liked kissing you just now. I don't know anything else."

"Okay. Okay. Does this mean you'll be in court tomorrow?"

"I'll have to be. Rita Calhoun says I'm testifying tomorrow."

"That means all hell's about to break loose. You ready for it, Detective?" Sonny looked down at his hand, which rested on the bench right next to Rafael's. He adjusted his pinky so that it intertwined with Rafael's.

"As long as I see your face in that courtroom tomorrow, I'm ready for anything."


	6. Take Time Out

"I..."

"Yeah. It's a lot to take in." Rafael gently elbowed Sonny in the side. "Hey, any of it coming back to you? Anything?"

"Maybe. I don't know. How could I not remember this? It seems like a big moment to forget about."

"I couldn't tell you. All I can tell you is what happened next."

"Which is?"

 

 

_Supreme Court_

_Part 22_

_Monday, July 12th  
_

"I want to crush Andy's smug face into that table. And so does the jury, I can tell," Rafael grumbled under his breath. Rita stifled a smile and playfully swatted him. Andy's lawyer, one Mickey D'Angelo, was in the middle of attempting to either humiliate Margo or destroy her credibility. He was not doing a phenomenal job at either. Margo was a smart girl, and she dodged every leading question with grace and dignity, never once lowering her eyes. _Attagirl,_ Rafael thought. And then it was his turn. He stood up, buttoning his blazer over his vest (his favorite vest) and tie (his lucky tie). He had picked out his best suit (charcoal gray) for this occasion, and no part of his appearance contradicted the not-quite-meek-but-not-quite-arrogant quality he tried his best to put out, except for his socks, which were purple striped and hidden (thankfully) by his pant leg.

 _"Señorita_ Lopez, I just have one question. What happened to you at Andy Kelly's party?" Margo swallowed hard and brushed a lock of curly black hair that had sprung out of her bun back behind her ear.

"I got to the party late. When I got there, I checked in with Andy to see if he needed anything, but he was different than usual. I would have said at that point that we were pretty good friends, but he was acting really cold. I figured he'd had a bad day, so I left him alone. I wandered around the party for a little while. I talked to you for a few minutes. About an hour after I talked to you, I decided to leave. I went to go say goodbye to Andy, but I couldn't find him. I was going to toss a couple of beer bottles in the recycling when something hit me over the head. I woke up in the hospital. That's when I was told I'd been raped. Andy was the one who had come with me in the ambulance. He pretended to know nothing about it-"

"Objection! Speculation." D'Angelo stood up, interrupting Margo.

"Sustained. Please limit your testimony to what you know for sure, Ms. Lopez," said the judge.

"Fine. He _said_ he knew nothing about what had happened to me."

"Thank you, Margo. No further questions." Rafael sat back down and took a deep breath. He knew what was coming.

"The people call Rafael Barba to the stand." With a minute squeeze of his shoulder, Rita stood up, buttoning her olive green blazer. He cleared his throat and tried to look as dignified as he could as he slid out from behind the table and into the witness box.

"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God."

"Mr. Barba," Rita said, her face stoic and blank, free of any familiarity, "could you tell us how you know the defendant?"

"I went to law school with him. He was my study partner, and one of my good friends."

"And how do you know Margarita Lopez?"

"We met at the defendant's Fourth of July party. We talked for only about five minutes, but I got the impression that she's a good kid."

"So how did you feel when you were informed that Mr. Kelly had been arrested for this crime?"

"Sick to my stomach. Firstly, because I considered him a friend. Secondly, because he called me that morning to tell me Margo had been raped. He was at the hospital with her. She didn't even know."

"Objection, speculation."

"Sustained." Rafael sighed.

"She told me she didn't know."

"Thank you, Mr. Barba. Nothing further." D'Angelo stood, a bizarrely friendly grin on his face.

"Mr. Barba, would you say that you were attracted to Ms. Lopez?"

"She seemed nice enough, if that's what you mean."

"I meant sexually." Rafael swallowed hard and glanced briefly around the courtroom. Sonny sat in the fourth row back. His expression was unreadable.

"Sure. Yes. I found _Señorita_ Lopez to be rather attractive."

"And did you know that she was in a relationship with my client?"

"No. Neither of them told me. Not until a few days later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"So you didn't rape her?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Objection!" Rita gestured angrily with her pen. "This witness is not on trial."

"Maybe he should be. The rape kit found my client's semen, but if they were having sexual relations already, then the bruising could have some from anyone. Including Mr. Barba, who just admitted he was sexually attracted to Ms. Lopez."

"I didn't rape her. Andy Kelly did. He confessed, and then he tried to attack me. That's all." Rafael met Sonny's eyes again. The ice blue softened slightly, and Rafael could see just a trace of a dimple in his cheek. D'Angelo sat back down. "Nothing else, Your Honor."

"Mr. Barba, you may step down."

 

Rafael found himself feeling somehow...lighter. Giddy, even. He had only testified once before, and not while he was simultaneously prosecuting. But what a rush it was! His stomach growled, and he realized he hadn't eaten all day. He found Sonny outside the courtroom.

"Are you up for lunch?"

"God, yeah. I haven't eaten all day." The pair walked out into the warm afternoon side by side. 

"Are you ready to testify?" Rafael asked. There was clear, sincere concern in his voice.

"Maybe. I sure as hell hope so. I've never had to testify on a case before."

"Never? You've worked in SVU for three months."

"Yeah, but mostly pushing paperwork around. The only reason I went out on this case was because I got stuck with the night shift."

"I'm really glad you did."

"So am I." Their eyes met, and Rafael couldn't help but smile. Sonny just had one of those faces, where if he looked at you, your insides lit up, and you were left with a warm feeling that you thought wouldn't dissipate for years. Then Sonny looked past Rafael and flinched. He turned around and kept walking, a confused Rafael trailing behind him.

"What just happened back there?" Rafael asked, his voice low.

"I saw my old partner from Staten Island."

"So?"

"So, I was thinking about kissing you, and she and I used to go to church together."

"Oh." They kept walking. Rafael's knuckles brushed against Sonny's and he swallowed a grin. "Come on. This way." Eventually, Rafael held out a hand to stop Sonny. "Here we are." He pointed towards a white-and-yellow striped awning. Under said awning was a silver cart, painted with the words 'HOT DOGS' in big blue letters. Sonny cocked an eyebrow.

"Hot dogs? Really?"

"First of all, what do you mean 'really?' Secondly, these are the best hot dogs in the entire city- nay, state- of New York."

"I don't know, I guess I just expected...I don't know. What's your recommendation?"

"Turkey chili dog. You're gonna need extra napkins. And maybe a fork," Rafael said with a chuckle and ordered. He handed Sonny one of the paper trays.

"Jesus, this is heavy."

"Yup." They each grabbed a handful of napkins and sat down on a nearby bench. Eating in silence had become something of a habit for Rafael, given that he rarely had someone to eat with, so when Sonny cleared his throat, he was stunned out of his carnivorous stupor.

"Oh my God, this might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"I told you." Rafael smirked. "You have chili on your face." Sonny swiped at his face with a napkin, missing wildly.

"Did I get it?"

"Definitely not. Here." Before Sonny could respond, Rafael planted a quick kiss on Sonny's chin, sweeping his tongue gently across it before pulling away. "Got it." He grinned wickedly. Sonny rolled his eyes.

"If that's all you wanted, you could have just asked." Sonny's lips brushed over Rafael's once, twice, three times before Rafael grabbed his tie, pulling him into a deeper kiss. "Jesus. This is..."

"Crazy? An absolute mess? The greatest thing ever?"

"All of the above, and then some. I just never thought I'd be here."

"What, at Schroeder's hot dog cart? I mean, I know it's kind of a hole-in-the-wall, but-"

"Shut up. You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I do. I really do. But it's not...a bad thing, right? To be here?"

"No, it isn't. At least, not entirely. It's just a lot of stress."

"Well, I'm sorry that being with me is such a stressor for you-" He joked, but was interrupted.

"Whoa, whoa, who said anything about being together? We're not dating, Rafael. You kissed me when we were drunk, and then you followed me to church, and-and _seduced_ me-"

"I 'seduced you?' Not two minutes ago, you were practically begging for a kiss. If anything, you seduced me, with drinks and secret shortcuts and-"

"Oh my God, that's called being polite and friendly. You know what? I'll see you later. I'm gonna head back. I don't think we need to prep anymore. And I think after I testify we should just... give each other some space. Yeah." Sonny took a bite of his hot dog and gave the tiniest, bitchiest wave he could manage. Once again, Rafael was left to his own devices, confused and angry and descending into emotional chaos. Suddenly, the hot dog in his hand didn't look quite so appetizing. Suddenly, actually, he wished that the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Or that he could time-travel back to a time when he wasn't completely dead inside, or at least less than 85%.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm sorry to say, but we're getting close to the end (we still have a few more chapters, though!) I do have a few other shorter projects in the works though, so stay tuned, and comment if you have any ideas or requests!


	7. Peace Offerings

"So let me get this straight..."

"Yeah?" Rafael braced himself. He knew he probably should not have told this story. Oh well. Too late.

"You and I worked together almost twenty years ago."

"Yes."

"In Brooklyn, even though I was only there for two months."

"Yes."

"And we were kinda dating."

"Yes."

"And yet, I don't remember any of it? How could I not remember having a relationship with a man?"

"It wasn't very long. It was more of a fling."

"Still! I mean, I don't- I'm not-"

"Just... listen. Please."

 

Rafael's stomach was in knots as the trial resumed. Rita glanced over at him, concerned.

"You okay? You didn't get food poisoning at lunch, did you?"

"No, nothing like that." Although, to be fair, at Schroeder's, that was a very real possibility.

"So what is it?"

"Nothing, just... nerves."

"You're never nervous."

"I'm fine, Rita," Rafael snapped.

"Sure." She rolled her eyes.

"Counselor Barba, call your next witness, please." The judge interrupted them before anything else could be said.

"The people call-" he suddenly remembered who he was calling. He had to stay fair. Otherwise, he risked everything. "The people call Detective Dominick Carisi to the stand." The slim, angry detective entered the room and sat in the witness box. He was clearly trying his best to mask his emotions, but he was Italian. There was only so much that could be done in that respect.

"Detective Carisi, you were the first officer on the scene when you arrived at Brighton Beach, correct?"

"Correct." His answers were short and filled with tension. It was immediately clear that he would not be staying impartial. Rafael silently cursed the hotdog in his throat that was threatening to come up. If he couldn't convince Sonny to stay calm, he was screwed.

"What happened when you got there?"

"The party was total chaos. It was smoky, loud, there were people everywhere. Eventually, I found the 9-1-1 caller on the edges. She'd found Ms. Lopez naked and beaten half to death. I made sure she got in an ambulance, and then I started taking statements."

"And what was clear from these statements?"

"Well, at least five people said they had seen Ms. Lopez and Andy Kelly arguing earlier in the night."

"At what point did the defendant officially become a suspect?"

"Did you not just hear me? I said that he was immediately implicated by witnesses at the party." Rafael took a deep breath. Clearly, the detective's surly attitude was not going to do them well.

"What was your first impression of Andy Kelly?"

"Christ, do you really not listen? What do you think I thought of him?" Yikes. It was clear that Sonny was going to hurt more than help this case, and as such, there was only one more viable course of action.

"Your Honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile?"

"Permission granted." Sonny fumed silently.

"Detective, you thought Andy Kelly was manipulative, abusive, and above all, guilty, correct?"

"...yes. I did."

"And you saw that firsthand, didn't you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"When you were interrogating Mr. Kelly, he lashed out and attempted to assault me. In fact, you had to step in to protect me, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"Yes, I saw Andy Kelly attempt to attack you."

"Thank you. Nothing further."

"Defense?"

"We have nothing for this witness."

"Very well. Call your next witness, Mr. Barba."

 

"Holy crap. I can't believe I'd ever pull that on the stand." Carisi took a long, pensive swig of beer.

"Trust me, that wasn't the craziest thing you did."

 

"Hostile witness? Are you kidding me? What the hell was that?!" Carisi stormed out of the courtroom, shoving Rafael so hard he nearly fell.

"You were harming the case. I had no choice. I needed your testimony."

"Oh my God. I don't know how I didn't see this earlier, but you're a self-absorbed, egotistical, supercilious prick!"

"And you're and immature, petulant ass with an inferiority complex!"

"Ugh."

"Go to hell, Detective." Sonny gasped softly and took a step back. "Wait, I-I didn't mean that. Really."

"Whatever. I guess it's been nice knowing you." As the detective walked away, Rafael felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Man. You really screwed that up, didn't you?"

"Thanks, Rita. I just... I don't know what to do."

"Well, telling the Catholic closet case to go to hell probably wasn't the best choice."

"I know. I know. You want to get drunk back at the office? I've got a bottle or two of whiskey from Bauer that need drinking."

"You had me at 'drunk at the office.'"

 

The following morning, a very hungover Rafael Barba arrived at Brooklyn's 88th precinct, coffee in both hands and the darkest sunglasses he owned perched on the bridge of his chiseled nose.

"Captain. Any new news?" Captain Wilson barely glanced up from the paperwork spread across her desk.

"You mean since yesterday? No, Barba, I did not. I have to ask, though, what did you do to my detective?" Rafael froze.

"Uh, what do you mean? I didn't-"

"He called in sick today." Relief flooded over Rafael.

"Oh."

"Yep... anyway, we don't have anything new for you."

"Sure. Thanks anyway." As Rafael turned to leave, a little bit of guilt started to settle in. He knew he was a little mean in the courtroom, but he also knew he was bad at turning it off for real life. He was also bad at apologies.

"Captain, this is a weird question, but-"

"Pistachio cannoli from La Dolce Vita. Two blocks north."

"...thanks, Captain."

"Anytime, Counselor."

 

As it turned out, pistachio cannoli, especially from a small, artisan bakery like La Dolce Vita, were very, very expensive. Like, more than every piece of furniture in Rafael's entire apartment. Then again, he was a poor 30 year old lawyer, so that wasn't saying a whole lot. He trudged up the stairs of the sixth floor walk-up (the tallest legally allowed), a pink takeout bag in one hand. He was shocked by how out of breath he was. He made a mental note to actually start running like he'd planned. He probably wouldn't. But he was going to think about it. 

Fortunately, apartment 6A was the closest to the stairwell, and Rafael, out of breath, banged his fist heavily on the door.

"Carisi! Open up!" Silence. "Carisi!" Again, nothing. "...Sonny? It's Rafael, just open the-" The door opened. In the narrow opening, the detective's slight frame looked even gaunter than usual.

"What?" He growled, pushing a loose lock of dusty brown hair out of his face.

"I brought a peace offering." Rafael held up the bag. "Cannoli from La Dolce Vita. Captain Wilson said they're your favorite."

"They are, just..." Sonny swallowed, looking nauseated. "Oh God." He sprinted away from the door, and there was a series of muffled retching noises. Rafael groaned. He'd always had a weak stomach, especially when it came to throwing up and apologies. He pushed down the queasiness, though, and hesitantly pushed the door open the rest of the way, taking a few small steps into the apartment. It was even tinier than his, a studio with barely enough room for a sofa and a bed. He chuckled at the remarkably low ceilings. He couldn't imagine how Sonny could walk around without hunching over.

"Sorry." Sonny reappeared, wiping his mouth. "Just leave 'em on the counter." Rafael began to oblige, but paused.

"Wait-"

"What?"

"You're really sick?"

"...yeah. I called in sick. That means I'm sick."

"No, I mean... I just thought maybe you called in sick because of, you know," he gestured between the two of them. "Us." Sonny laughed bitterly.

"Seriously? My life doesn't revolve around you, contrary to what you might believe. My world doesn't end just because we did."

"Oh. Right."

"That's not to say..." Sonny sighed. "I thought about it. Avoiding you. The food poisoning just made the decision for me."

"Food poisoning? From the hot dogs?" Sonny shrugged.

"Probably. Figures."

"What?"

"Everything with you seems really great. Working together, kissing, hot dogs. But none of it seems to work out."

"Maybe that's just because..."

"Because what?"

"Because both of us need to try to fix it. Our work relationship, and our relationship relationship."

"I don't think you can fix food poisoning, but thanks. For the pastries. And for everything."

"I might not be able to fix the food poisoning, but I can at least stay here with you. Hold your hair while you puke. Metaphorically, at least."

"You'd really do that for me? Even after all those horrible things?"

"Horrible things? Are you joking? I never should have blamed you. Everyone feels like you do when they first come out. That confusion, the fear, the anger? Totally normal. I've been there, too. It's just been such a long time that I guess I forgot what it's like. But it's not your fault. I get it. I really do."

"Oh." Tears grew in Sonny's big blue eyes. "I, um... I don't know what to say." He rushed forward, throwing his arms around Rafael. "Thank you. Again." He pulled back, and shyly reached for Rafael's hand, pulling him over to the small blue sofa (it was more of a loveseat, really). He sat, curling his knees against his chest. Rafael sat next to him, wrapping Sonny in his broad arms, gently stroking his hair.

"I've got you. I've got you."


	8. Normal-Adjacent

For the first time since college, Rafael woke up early. Early for him, anyway. Before seven o'clock. Without an alarm clock. He'd woken up several times throughout the night, every time Sonny had woken up and ran to the bathroom to puke his guts out, waiting outside the bathroom with another glass of ginger ale. Once, he'd even had to carry him in his arms back to the sofa, his slim frame weakened further by the constant vomiting.

Sonny slept on the sofa while Rafael made coffee. He carried the mug back over to the couch and looked at the sleeping detective next to him. His hair hung loosely across his face, which still had a sheen of sweat on it. He was pale, and even in his sleep, he shook a little bit. Practically vibrated. The coffee was too hot, burning Rafael's throat as he swallowed, anchoring him to reality. He didn't know what this meant. He didn't know if this was the beginning or the end of something. He only knew that he'd never been as happy as he was now, with the perfect man in his arms, his breathing shallow and his skin burning. Being here, with him, it set Rafael on fire. Something inside of him had woken up, pushing him away from the consistency of his life before and pushing him into the unknown. In the short time they had known each other, Rafael had learned more about love and loss than in any of his other relationships. He wouldn't- no, he _couldn't_ be the same. Regardless of how they moved from there, from sleeping in each others arms on a ratty green sofa in Brooklyn, something in him would forever be different. That much he knew.

He didn't notice Sonny wake up until he reached for the coffee in Rafael's hand, his scorching skin meeting Rafael's freezing hands (he always had cold hands. God knows why.)

"Caffeine, please and thank you," he croaked. Surprisingly, Rafael relented, handing over the coffee.

"How'd you sleep?" Sonny snorted.

"How do you think?"

"Fair enough. Feeling better?"

"Much better."

"Glad to hear it." At once, they both realized the awkwardness of the situation. Sonny withdrew his legs from their place in Rafael's lap as Rafael retracted his arm from the spot behind Sonny's head. "So..."

"So."

"I should get going."

"Yep. Makes sense." Rafael moved in jerky, faltering actions, gathering his jacket and briefcase from where he'd dropped them by the door.

"I'll see you later."

"Yep."

As Rafael turned to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Rafael, wait." Sonny pressed his lips to Rafael's unfortunately stubbly cheek in a feverish kiss. "Bye." Rafael couldn't keep a smile from spreading across his face.

"Bye."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry this is super short


	9. A Chance to Survive the Night

"I remember." The words were so quiet as they left Sonny's mouth, Rafael didn't even register them.

"Huh?" His reply was an afterthought, followed by a quick swig of his whiskey.

"I remember, Barba." That one simple sentence hit Rafael like a stroke of lightning.

"You _what?"_

"I remember. Not everything. But some. I remember that. The food poisoning. And you being there." His hands fidgeted on the bar and his leg bounced. He stared straight ahead. "And what happened next."

 

To be frank, none of the witnesses called after Sonny mattered. Not to the jury. They knew all that they needed to know, in their own minds.

"Counselors, your closing statements?" Asked the judge. Rafael and Rita exchanged a glance, a nod. He rose to his feet and buttoned his jacket, silently compiling every argument he'd made over the course of the trial. He couldn't see her, but he could feel Margo's eyes on him. Everyone's eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence you've seen over the last few weeks shows you exactly what happened. Even without all of these corroborating witnesses. Even without the investigation. It's common sense. The bruises on _Señorita_ Lopez's face. Andrew Kelly's DNA. But we do have corroborating witnesses. We did do an investigation. It's overwhelming how obvious it is. Margarita Lopez was brutally and cruelly raped by the defendant. That's all that can be determined from the evidence." He sat, hiding his shaking hands under the table. A smaller, warmer hand slipped into his own. Rita smiled thinly, but Rafael could see the lack of confidence in her eyes.

D'Angelo gave his closing statement. The jury was excused for deliberation. There was nothing more either Rafael or Rita could do.

An hour passed. Then two. Then three. Three hours was not a good sign. Three hours meant disagreement. The only thing worse was four hours. Fortunately, it didn't come to that. When Rafael's phone buzzed in his pocket, he didn't even bother to check the message.

"Let's go." He jostled Rita, who was drifting off to sleep on the courthouse bench next to him.

 

The courtroom was overflowing. Those who didn't have room to sit stood in the back, chatting quietly. A nervous silence settled over the room when the jury entered, as Rafael's stomach did flips.

"Have you reached a verdict?" Those five words scared Rafael to his core. If the outcome was not in his favor, he didn't know if he could keep going. With work, with life, with anything. Never in his life had he gotten so close to a case.

"Yes, Your Honor. We have."

"On the count of rape in the first degree, how do you find?"

"We find the defendant..." There was a brief pause, probably not even a second, but to Rafael and Rita, it seemed like hours. "Guilty." His head spun. He'd prepared for the wrong outcome. The wrong decision. Time slowed. The world stopped. For just an instant, Rafael was all alone in the world, and it felt incredible. He rose to his feet, still shaky from nerves, and looked around the room. All the spectators were frozen in place, or so it seemed. Andy's face was in a state of total rage and despair, which only lifted Rafael's spirits further. From the back of the room, he noticed movement, suddenly. Just one face in the crowd. One babyish, long, thin face, that rose a few inches above everyone else's. Sonny beamed brilliantly, and the room was flooded with light. In that single moment, just the two of them, the world fell away, and nothing else mattered. But it couldn't last forever. Time sped up, and people moved again.

"We did it, Rafi!" Rita squealed and threw her arms around Rafael.

"Damn right, we did it." He wheeled around and crossed the room in a few short steps until he was facing Andy. "Have fun, Andy. I hear prison's a fun time." With a wink, he turned away and left the courtroom.

 

Later that night, Rafael sat at the bar, nursing a beer. Rita has offered to come with him, but he turned her down. He always celebrated alone after winning a case. It was force of habit from when he didn't have anyone to celebrate with. He'd grown used to this, a few pints and a minor league hockey game at whatever little, poorly lit bar he could find.

"Anthony, another round, please." Even then, Anthony worked the bar, although he also looked considerably younger.

"One for me, too." A familiar voice came from behind him. "Thought you'd be celebrating your big win."

"It's our win, Sonny. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, you could've. It just wouldn't have been as much fun." Rafael smiled.

"True." Sonny settled into the seat next to him. "And, for your information, I am celebrating."

"By yourself? That's just sad. You know, you've got plenty of people on your side. It's not just you against the world."

"I know that. Doesn't mean that's not what it feels like sometimes."

"That's so existential. Don't you ever stop?"

"Stop what?"

"I don't know, everything? You're always moving so fast, like you're afraid that if you slow down, the world will come crashing down around you."

"What, are you saying I have some kind of a god complex?"

"No! Of course I'm not saying that. All I'm saying is that you act like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It wouldn't hurt to let someone else help you with that from time to time." Rafael sighed.

"You're probably right."

"I'm absolutely right."

"It's just not that simple. All my life, people have relied on me. My family, my friends. Everyone. It's too hard to let all of that go."

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds? Here, just look at me." He did, and immediately began to drown in the icy gray-blue of Sonny's eyes. "Take my hand." His palm was warm against Rafael's. "Repeat after me."

"This is so-"

"Shut up and repeat after me. I am going to enjoy myself tonight-"

"I am going to enjoy myself tonight-"

"And not think about my actual responsibilities at all-"

"And not think about my actual responsibilities at all-"

"Unless it's an emergency."

"That kind of ruined the whole vibe you had going-"

"Say it."

"Unless it's an emergency," said Rafael through his laughter.

"There we go. No more stress. Feel that weight? You shouldn't, because it's been lifted." Rafael nodded.

"Right. No more weight. Just beer."

"I like the way you think. Anthony, two more beers, please."

 

When their beers were gone (along with the two or three that followed), Rafael tossed a few bills on the counter and pulled his coat off the back of the stool.

"I should get home. My neighbors are nosy, and they'll be up in my business if I'm not home by a reasonable hour."

"Right. Why don't I walk you? I feel like I owe you more than a few favors."

"I'm not complaining."

 

The air was warm and humid was warm outside (it was almost August, so that was no surprise), and Sonny was dressed much better in his t-shirt and jeans, a leather jacket slung over one shoulder, St. Michael ring glinting under the streetlamps. He looked, as best Rafael could put it in his somewhat-intoxicated brain, smokin' hot. They walked side by side in long stretches of comfortable silence, hardly touching except for the odd moment when their swinging arms would brush together. Unfortunately, the bar was just a short walk from Rafael's apartment, so they arrived much faster than he would have liked.

"This is me."

"This is you." They faced each other in a less-comfortable silence. Rafael turned and took one step up the stairs, then stopped.

"Wait." He spun around, crossing to where Sonny stood, about to walk in the opposite direction, seizing him by the shoulder, tugging him down to a deep kiss. This wasn't a kiss like any others they had before. It was more. More everything. Insistent and hungry, like no matter how long it went on for, it would never be enough. Sonny's hands were frozen in a surrender, his long, thin fingers tightening around Rafael's shoulders. They stumbled backwards, and Rafael tripped over the stairs, landing with a hard _thud._

"Ow."

"Sorry," Sonny chuckled. They stared at each other for a short time, then went back at it, harder than before. Hands were everywhere. Tongues were everywhere. Rafael rose to his feet and pulled Sonny by his shirt collar, dragging him up the stairs and into the building. Sonny's back slammed into the wall.

"Wha- what about your neighbors?" He asked breathily as Rafael's lips traced a circle, down his jaw and neck and back up to his mouth.

"Don't worry about them. They're all old as hell. They've been asleep since six." They slid down the wall until Sonny's back was to Rafael's door (thank god for first-floor apartments). Rafael fumbled for his keys, finally sliding them into the lock and shoving the door open. Once they stumbled into the apartment, all bets were off. Rafael found the hem of Sonny's shirt and whipped it over his head, trailing kisses down Sonny's bare chest, then back up to his lips. Sonny grasped blindly for the buttons on Rafael's jacket and vest.

"Why are you wearing so many goddamned layers?"

"Shut up and kiss me." At last, they removed their many, many layers, and as they staggered to the bedroom, all Rafael could feel was bare skin to bare skin. Sonny radiated heat like, well, the sun. He felt as if he was on fire and frozen in ice at the same time. For the first time, he understood what Sonny had said earlier. There was nothing weighing him down. For the first time, somebody was helping him hold the world together. For the first time, there was somebody was by his side, facing down the world together. For the first time, survival was not only a possibility, it was a certainty.


	10. For Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to E, who knows who she is

For the first time in a long time, Rafael woke up to the sound of his shower on. He rolled over and found an empty indent in the other side of his bed, a side which was almost always made to perfection and rarely touched. All of a sudden, much like the water from the shower into the drain, his memories rushed back. His heart skipped a beat, and a warmth spread from his toes to the tips of his fingers. With a groan, he dragged himself from the bed and grabbed a T-shirt and pajama pants from the dresser beside him. Out in the living room, he picked his way through the discarded items of clothing from the previous night to the kitchen. He filled the coffee machine and rested back on the counter, taking in the scene before him. He'd never had a night like that before. For better or for worse, his life was changed by it. As he took his first sip, the shower clunked off. After a few moments, Sonny appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and Rafael's old Harvard sweatshirt.

"Hey."

"Hey," Rafael replied, unable to keep a smile from spreading across his face. He turned to pour a second cup of coffee, and felt Sonny's arms wrap around his waist, and his warm lips pressed to his neck, nipping softly.

"Morning."

"G'morning," Sonny murmured, his chin resting on Rafael's shoulder. "I hope you don't mind I'm wearing your shirt."

"On the contrary. I think you pull it off better than I ever did."

"It's a little short." Sonny raised his arms to show off his thin stomach.

"I like the crop top look." Rafael grabbed his bare hips and tugged him forward, kissing him roughly.

"Do you? I'll keep that in mind." The coffee abandoned and cooling on the counter, the two of them stumbled back into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them.

 

"I'm sorry, what? I just... what?" Throughout the entire story Rafael had been telling, he'd been trying to check in with Sonny every so often, but since he started to talk about the night (and following morning) they spent together, it had gotten a lot harder to make direct eye contact. "I'm not going to tell you that you're lying, but I'm almost one hundred percent certain I would remember if we were-" Sonny blushed. "-intimate."

"To be fair, we were pretty drunk at the time. And you were pretty drunk later."

"What do you-"

"Just let me talk. You'll see."

 

Later that morning, they lay in Rafael's bed, Rafael's head resting on Sonny's stomach, Sonny absentmindedly playing with Rafael's hair, all items of clothing retrieved earlier discarded for a second time.

"So..." Sonny started.

"So?"

"So where do we go from here? Do we tell people? Do we go on an actual date? Are we dating now, or-"

"I'm leaving." A pause.

"You're... leaving?"

"In a week. I've been offered a position at the Cuban embassy, working with immigration. I got the call two weeks ago. I took the job yesterday. That's what I was celebrating last night, and why I was alone. I'll be in DC this time next week. And I don't know when I'll be back."

"So just like that? You sleep with me and you go?" The traces of malice in Sonny's voice were unmistakable.

"It wasn't right of me, I know." Rafael turned his head up to look at Sonny, who refused to meet his eyes. "But I couldn't leave without knowing you felt the same way about me as I did- as I _do-_ about you."

"And at any point during this train of thought, did you stop and think about my feelings? That maybe I'm not totally cool with that? No, of course you didn't, because you only think about yourself and your own happiness. It's the same reason we fought earlier, Rafael. You're incapable of empathy." As soon as the words left Sonny's mouth, laced with venom and spite, Rafael could tell he regretted it. He wasn't lying, but he regretted it all the same.

"Okay." The word came out choked as Rafael stood, picking up Sonny's clothes and shoving them into his arms. "You're probably right. If that's the case then, you deserve better than me anyways." With a lingering sadness, Rafael picked up the Harvard sweatshirt from the pile on the floor and added it to the collection in Sonny's lap. "I'm getting in the shower." _And you can't be here when I get out,_ every word implied. And true enough, when he came out of the bathroom, Sonny was gone, along with the sweatshirt. With a great reluctance, Rafael dressed and left the apartment.

All of a sudden, the weight that Sonny had lifted away came crashing back down, and Rafael almost buckled. But he didn't. He rolled his shoulders back and just kept walking. That was the way he always lived his life. If he just kept walking, nobody could touch him. If he didn't stop, he built up inertia, and he could just keep moving. Despite what he might have felt last night, survival was temporary. Sooner or later, everyone breaks.


	11. Full Circle

"So what happened next?" Sonny asked after a moment. Rafael just stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what happened?"

"Nothing. You left. We didn't see each other again until last year." Sonny narrowed his eyes.

"So what, you just left? You went to DC and forgot about me?"

"You do realize the irony in what you just said, right? About me forgetting you?" They were both silent for what seemed like hours. "I didn't want to leave you. But I couldn't say no. And if I had said no, I don't think I'd be here now."

"Why didn't you say something earlier, though? We've been working together for almost two years, and not once did you ever say something."

"I should have, I know, but... I figured you'd moved on. And you didn't seem, you know, _out,_ so I figured I would just shut up until you said something."

"Thank you for that, at least." Sonny took a long sip of his drink and squeezed his eyes shut. "So, where do we go from here?"

"That's up to you."

"I don't think I can just go back to pretending like we're just colleagues, Rafael."

"So... what?"

"I don't know. All I know is that we can't just be... nothing."

"So our only other option is to be... something." Tension hung in the air, the space between them growing smaller and smaller as they leaned into each other, pushed forwards by excitement, held back by hesitance. Haltingly, Rafael raised one of his arms, sliding his hand up Sonny's smooth jawline, pulling him forwards until at last, their lips met. It was like they had fallen back into that late 90s summer, before life had fully taken hold of them and pulled them apart. Being back together like this felt like two missing puzzle pieces linked together at last after nearly two decades of being shoved into the wrong places, together with pieces that didn't quite fit. Sonny was still the same human space heater, radiating warmth under Rafael's icy touch.

"Wow." Sonny's eyebrows raised in surprise as the kiss ended. It had been short, but not too short for comfort.

"Wow?"

"It's like déjà vu." He glanced down and noticed that his hand had somehow landed on Rafael's knee. "Oh!" He quickly snatched his arm away.

"It's fine." A thin smile played at the corners of Rafael's lips as he leaned back in his chair.

"So, uh, what does this... where does this leave us?" Rafael shrugged.

"It leaves us... trying again. We get a second chance. We might as well take it." Sonny bit his lip, his leg bouncing restlessly in the same way it had their first time around.

"You really mean it? No more running off to DC?"

"I couldn't leave again. My mom is here. All my friends are here. And my job. It wasn't until I left that I realized just how much I love this job. Not to mention the people I work with." He nudged Sonny's shoulder gently.

"Can I just ask you one more thing?"

"Shoot."

"When you first walked into that bullpen, and you saw me... what were you thinking?"

"Well, I didn't really recognize you at first. You had that _espantoso_ mustache. It really wasn't until you spoke that everything sort of-" he clicked his tongue. "And that was the exact moment I knew that leaving was the worst mistake I ever made. It's only by fate that we both ended up in the same place. And thank god we did."

"Thank god."

"But I'm not a stupid kid anymore, Sonny. I've had enough beating around the bush for one lifetime. I'm done with that." Rafael downed the last of his drink. "How would you like to get lunch with me tomorrow? On a real date." Sonny's face was frozen in shock. "Hello? Sonny?" All at once, the surprise broke away, leaving the most brilliant, beaming, dazzling grin behind.

"I'd like nothing more." Sonny reached over and squeezed Rafael's hand. "So, what were you thinking we'd do?"

"I thought maybe Schroeder's. Bring us full circle."

"Fine. But if I get food poisoning, I expect cannolis again."

"I promise." Rafael tossed a $20 bill on the counter and grabbed his coat off his stool. "I should get home."

"I'll walk you." They left the bar together, side by side. As the snow began to flutter around their heads, Sonny reached over, looping their fingers together.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" Rafael asked, partially to Sonny, partially just to the open air.

"Yeah, we have. But is that such a bad thing?" Rafael chuckled and shook his head.

"No, I suppose it isn't." His free hand swung around Sonny's neck, tugging him down into a long, slow kiss. The snow vaporized around them, and in their own little bubble, in their own little world, it almost felt like July.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, guys! I know it was tough with all my weird, unplanned hiatuses, but I really appreciate all of your support. And I promise, I'll be doing even more writing in the future for these two, so stay tuned! Leave ideas and suggestions for more stories in the comments, and I'll see y'all on the other side.  
> -C


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